


A Little Patience

by Auddieliz09



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Boys Are Dumb, First Kiss, JROTC AU, M/M, Minor Angst, Mutual Pining, twlivebingo, two boys one bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-22
Updated: 2019-03-22
Packaged: 2019-11-27 11:15:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18193856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Auddieliz09/pseuds/Auddieliz09
Summary: When Boyd has to share a bed with his best friend and longtime crush, Isaac, he's pretty sure the world is out to get him. How the hell is he supposed to hide his feelings in such close proximity?





	A Little Patience

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ExtraSteps](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExtraSteps/gifts), [liamschimera](https://archiveofourown.org/users/liamschimera/gifts).



> For Alicia, who kept kicking my butt into gear on this thing. And T, my fellow former MCJROTC cadet.
> 
> Before I get started, let me point out that I was totally salty about them mentioning Boyd in JROTC twice in the show but never showed any of it. It was always about freaking lacrosse. Pth. Write what you know, right? I was in JROTC all 4 years in high school and my only knowledge of lacrosse comes from TW. So guess who's all on the Drill Team now? (Drill is organized marching, in case you didn't know.) Enjoy the mental image of all of our boys in uniform.

Boyd was sitting next to Erica at their table in the back while Lieutenant Colonel Beamon was giving everyone an overview of the itinerary for the upcoming out of state drill competition in two days. He was only half listening, mind on his drill card, hoping he doesn't screw up any of the commands during the competition.  He's had the card memorized since they day the Unit Leaders got them, and they'd been practicing every school day since the last competition the month before. But he's always worried about screwing up.

 

"Alright, last order of business before I dismiss you," Beamon says, holding up his clipboard. "Budget cuts this year mean that we can't afford to reserve as many hotel rooms as the previous years. The board has decided that a tunnel for the football team to run through is more important than your comfort."

 

"That's ridiculous. The football team is a joke." Jackson sits up in his seat. "So what does this mean exactly?"

 

"This means, Whittemore, that instead of everyone getting their own full bed, you'll have to share a queen with one of your teammates in a room of four. I'll be leaving the room and bunk assignments to Miss Brower. Any questions and complaints go to her." 

 

Beamon hands her a couple of sheets from his clipboard and starts to head for his office.  "You're dismissed."

 

Everyone starts talking at once, mostly complaints. Jazzmin Brower is still looking over the pages, eyebrows pulled together. "Makes me glad I wasn't voted for Captain," Erica mutters, looking at her.

 

"Me too.  I wish her all the luck with this lot." Boyd grabs his backpack and heads out the door toward the main building.  Breakfast is calling his name.

 

*

  
Throughout the rest of the day, he doesn't really think about the bed sharing situation.  There isn't anyone he absolutely can't stand on the team. Except maybe Jackson. But the odds of being stuck with him are slim so he's not going to worry about it. Though even a queen sized bed might be uncomfortable if he were paired with Ramsay. He was almost as large as Boyd.

 

School goes by in a blur, as does work. He struggles through his pre-calc homework. Why did he even take that class? He'd had enough math credits, that he didn't even need to take another math class. Should've taken a creative writing course or something. Maybe that cooking class with Erica. He's definitely going to drop the class at the end of the semester. He lulls himself to sleep reciting his drill card.

 

*

 

Boyd's alarm goes off at 5 am and, as he does every weekday morning, he curses the PT and Rifle teams for getting the after-school practice slots. Nevermind the fact that, since he's also on the Rifle team he'd have to still get up early of they were switched. But at least that's only twice a week.

 

He rolls out of bed and takes a quick shower to wake up.  Then, he gets dressed as quickly as possible, checks his backpack to make sure everything he needs is there, then leaves the house for the ten-minute walk to school.

 

He's a little surprised to see that he's not the first person to arrive for once. Under the streetlight, leaning against the wall beside the door to the JROTC building is Isaac Lahey. His dark, close-cropped curls glow under the light and his eyes are heavy. He looks soft and sleepy and Boyd is suddenly glad humans don't have super hearing.

 

Isaac looks up at the sound of approaching footsteps. He smiles at Boyd, all sweetness and dimples. "Hey, V!"

 

"Morning, Isaac." He'll never get over the fact that Isaac refuses to call him by his last name like everyone else, but respects his dislike for his first name. "You're earlier than usual."

 

"Woke up around three. Couldn't go back to sleep. Figured I'd make my way here since I'd end up here anyway."

 

"You've been standing here since  _ three am _ ?"

 

Isaac laughs. "Of course not. I only beat you here by about five minutes. I just fucked around on my phone for a couple of hours before heading out."

 

Boyd shakes his head at himself. "That makes so much more sense."

 

Isaac laughs again. "Are you usually the first one here?"

 

"Yeah. Jazz and Shy should be coming around the corner any minute, though. They live just behind the Alumni Park." He points to the far side of the building.

 

"No shit? That's kinda cool. When does LC usually show up?"

 

"0600 on the dot. I still haven't figured hot how he does it."

 

Before Isaac can say anything else, Jazzmin and Shyanne trudge around the corner of the building.

 

"Boyd, Isaac." Jazz nods at them before sitting on the curb, crossing her arms over her knees, and laying her head down.

 

"Hi, Isaac!" Shy says cheerfully. Boyd will never understand how she can be so damn chipper in the morning. Jazz is clearly the more sane sister. "Good morning, Boyd!"

They greet her in kind, but without the enthusiasm.

 

Jackson pulls up in his Porsche, Danny in the passenger seat. They're laughing about something. Seeing Jackson laugh is a novelty to Boyd. Others probably think the same about him, though. Jackson's default haughty expression returns as they get out. Shy immediately starts a conversation with Danny. While Jackson saunters over to Isaac.

 

"Lahey. The next time you want to take a stroll at four in the morning, how about don't. My mother's terrier yiped for fifteen minutes because you set off the security lights. I need my eight hours."  _ What happened to fucking around on his phone for a few hours? _ Boyd frowns.

 

Isaac doesn't look at all phased by Jackson's posturing. "Whittemore. I'm  _ so sorry _ to have interrupted your beauty sleep. But I'll take a stroll whenever I please. How about you ask really nice, and I'll consider walking in the other direction."

 

Jackson straightens to his full height, which isn't that tall, actually--his ego makes him seem larger than he is. But before he can shoot anything back, an ancient blue Jeep parks next to the Porsche.

 

Stiles, despite being a tightly-wound coil of flailing, ADHD energy, reads the tension in seconds. He leaves Scott behind in the still running Jeep and jogs over to Jackson and Isaac, draping an arm over the shoulders of the former and steering him away from the latter.  That really is the weirdest relationship Boyd has ever seen, yet somehow they work. Jackson needs to be the center of a universe and Stiles needs something to keep him occupied. Win-win.

 

Scott wanders over, stuffing the Jeeps keys in his pocket. "What's up, guys? Everything okay?" His soft brown eyes show a genuine interest in Isaac's well being. Boyd can't fault Isaac's obvious crush on him.

 

"Just Jackson being Jackson. No big." Isaac shrugs. Shoulders pushing his ridiculous scarf up to his ears.

 

The next bunch of cadets pull in followed by Beamon in his maroon Blazer. 0600. The rest of the Drill Team members will have to make their way to practice within fifteen minutes or practice will start without them, and they won't get to compete.

 

Twelve cadets follow Lt. Col. Beamon inside like a line of ducks. He stops at his desk, while Jazz leads the rest to the locker room so everyone can grab their drill shoes and covers.

 

Every member of the BHHS Cyclone Battalion is issued a pair of black patent leather dress shoes to go with their dress uniforms. But only the Drill Team has a second pair, dedicated to marching and inspections so they don't get scuffed by day-to-day wear and tear. Only to be worn on the drill deck. They only practice with them and their covers, also called caps, the last week before a competition.

 

Boyd grabs his shoes and hat, sits at his table, and waits for everyone else to show. Isaac sits at the table in front of his, straddling the chair and leaning back against the table. He smiles sheepishly. "I fucked around on my phone while I was walking, so I technically didn't lie."

 

Boyd nods. "So you walked around in the dark, distracted, for almost two hours?"

 

"Ah," He ducks his head. "Yeah, I guess so. It was... better than being at the house. Beats working the graveyard shift in an actual freaking graveyard."

 

"I guess I'll give you that one." Boyd knows that Isaac's life with his dad was horrible, even if he doesn't know all of the details, but the house they'd lived in surely held memories Boyd was sure Isaac wanted to get away from. When his dad had had a heart attack the year before, Isaac had inherited the house, but because he was seventeen, he needed a legal guardian. An aunt had moved in with him for eight months, but as soon as he'd turned eighteen, she moved back to where ever she'd come from, leaving him alone with all of the responsibilities of a household. He was lucky the house had been paid off, but he still has bills to pay.

 

Boyd had suggested he sell the house and find a smaller place to rent for a while, but Isaac hadn't agreed at the time, so he's biding his time until he can bring it up again.

 

Isaac opens his mouth to say something else, but before he can, Erica plops down next to Boyd. "Why did I let you guys convince me to join this damn team again?"   
  


"Because you like ordering people around. Especially when they can't talk back." Isaac points out.   
  


"Oh, yeah."   
  


"Also," Boyd says. "If you hadn't joined, you wouldn't have hooked up with Dee last year."   
  


Erica grins. "Took a year and a half. Totally worth it. You know, I always wanted to know what Lydia's hair looks like falling out of that tight coil she puts it in for the uniform. I kinda want to unpin it all and find out for myself."

 

"There you go. Make some new goals to keep you coming." Isaac grins back.   
  


All twenty-eight members, plus the Assistant Director, First Sergeant Schultz, make it inside the building before 0615. Schultz leads them all toward the back to collect their assigned rifles for the armed units. The retired M14s can't be fired, what with the rods in their barrels, but it's best if they're not easily accessible. The Daisy air rifles for the Rifle Team are in the vault, as well.

 

Beamon grabs the flags for the color guard and Schultz grabs a saber for the armed unit leaders. Everyone follows them to the gym. Everyone with a rifle sets them down and they all change their shoes. No one bothers to put on a cover until it's their time on the floor. They all look a little goofy in their matching shiny black shoes and street clothes. The white caps only make it worse.

 

"First years! On the deck!" Beamon announces as soon as everyone is ready.   
The little line of Freshmen and a few sophomores form at the front right corner of the basketball court. As Dunbar leads them through the card, Boyd notes the improvements the first years have made since the beginning of the year. Their spacing is staying steady and their steps are almost in sync.

 

And so the practice goes, Boyd lining up in his places for the unarmed platoon and armed squad. He also serves as left rifleman for the color guard. The final routine is his own: Armed platoon.

 

Boyd calls them into order; three lines of four, arranged by height behind the squad leaders. He leads them to the center of the court, halting them in front of the First Sergeant. After ordering them to face him and present arms, he executes an about face and raises the saber's hilt to his chin before lowering it to his hip -point down, blade flat- in salute.

 

"Sir, the Beacon Hills High School Drill Team requests permission to occupy your drill deck and perform the Armed Platoon Basic Drill Card in accordance with Marine Corps Order P5060.20, Sir!"

 

Schultz returns the salute. "Granted."   
  


"Thank you, Sir!" Boyd twists his wrist and brings the flat edge of the sword back up to his shoulder.   
  


He faces his platoon and begins issuing out commands. There's something heady about being allowed to use his entire voice. To dig deep down and build the sound from his diaphragm while standing straight. He spends the rest of his life being less, but that is the opposite of what is expected of him here. Each clipped command comes out solid and concise. Answered by the crisp sound of twelve hands simultaneously slapping the wooden stocks of the rifles, or heels hitting the deck.

 

The card he's long since memorized comes easily to him. As the marching portion of the card starts, he marches right alongside, shouting commands over his shoulder. Column right. Right flank. Left shoulder arms. Left flank. To the rear. Port arms. So on... By the end, his unit stops right back in front of  First Sergeant Schultz, arms presented.   
  


"Sir, the Beacon Hills High School Drill Team has completed the Armed Platoon Basic Drill Card and requests permission to exit your drill deck."   
  


"Granted."   
  


"Thank you, Sir!"   
  


Another about-face. "Order...arms!"  _ Slap, thud. _ Right hands come up to the top of each stock, before lowering the butts of the rifles to the floor. "Dismissed!"

 

All twelve members of the platoon execute an about face and the squad leaders file off, followed by the second column. Boyd moves to wait behind the last person in the fourth column, towering over Lydia, the shortest member of the platoon. He follows them to the edge of the court before they all disperse.

 

"I feel good about that one!" Stiles flails, like the last ten minutes of precise movement and quiet stillness had built up pressure and needed to be released. "Lieutenant Colonel? How'd we do?"

  
"You did very well. Mr. Boyd, you called every command on the correct foot. Good job. Miss Argent, keep an eye on that 40 inches during flanks. You got a little close to Mr. Stilinski once or twice. Mr. Lahey, make sure your shoulders don't sway when you do an about-face. Keep them tight. Other than that, you all did well. Keep these things in mind and you'll win gold." Everyone cheers.

 

The first years practice a few more times. They run through the color guard once more. Both platoons run through the oblique movements a couple more times. It's the hardest formation to maintain while moving. Like a flank, every cadet turns at the same time. But instead of turning at a 90-degree angle, they turn at 45 degrees, causing everyone's focus points to shift.

 

By the time practice is over and everyone has returned their rifles to the vault and their shoes and covers to their lockers, Boyd is ready to get breakfast. He sits at his table, impatiently waiting for Beamon to finish up his last remarks and dismiss them.

 

"Last but not least, Miss Brower has finished your bed and room assignments for tomorrow night. I expect all of you to take her word as mine. Where she's assigned you, you'll stay." Beamon turns to Jazz. "The floor is yours." He moves toward his office to start the morning scuttlebutt (gossip) with Schultz.

 

Jazz stands up. "Alright, for obvious reasons, ladies first. I'll bunk with Shy, make it easy..." She reads down the list. Erica looks positively delighted to be paired with Lydia.   
"Now for the gents," She eyeballs a few of the guys closest to her. "First of all, y'all gay as hell. Per Beamon's old school 'don't ask, don't tell' outlook, I didn't get explicit orders to keep boyfriends out of the same rooms, but it was heavily implied. I'll try to keep ex's out of the same rooms as well, you're welcome. Why couldn't y'all have focused on dudes outside of the team like  _ most _ of the girls, huh? Never mind. Bunkmates are as follows: McCall and Stilinski. Y'all been friends since pull-ups, no way you've never shared a bed before. Same goes for Whittemore and Mahealani. Dunbar and Hewitt." She rolls down the list, most pairs were friends. "Boyd and Lahey."  _ Wait, what? _

 

"I haven't assigned rooms quite yet because, if you were paying attention, there is an odd number of pairs. One lucky duo gets to share a king size. To show that I am not picking favorites, I've made slips with each pair written on them and placed them in my snapback. Lydia, if you please." Jazz holds the hat out to  Lydia, who swirls the strips around and pulls one out.

  
"Boyd and Lahey," She reads out loud. Several of the guys groan in disappointment. Isaac flashes a grin at Boyd. Boyd sits frozen, barely processing.   
"There you have it." Jazz dumps the rest of the slips into the trash can beside the front desk. "Official room assignments will be posted before you leave today. I'll stick it to the bulletin board outside LCs office. Dismissed."

 

The boys are grumbling as everyone gets up and starts to leave. Everyone except Boyd, that is. He's staring at his big hands, wondering how he's supposed to spend a whole night in the same bed as Isaac Lahey.

 

Erica notices he'd not moving. "Come on, buddy. French toast sticks Friday. You can have your crisis in the breakfast line."

 

That snaps Boyd's focus back to the present. He looks around for Isaac to see if he'd witnessed his momentary breakdown. Luckily, Isaac seems to be too busy snarking at Stiles with Theo to be paying attention to him. Boyd gathers his bags and hauls ass out of the building and away from wide, dimpled smiles, short curls, and deep blue eyes as fast as possible.

 

*

 

"Look," Erica says after they'd gotten their breakfast and sat down at their table. "I know it's some kind of unspoken rule that we  _ do not _ talk about how you're basically in love with Isaac. But considering recent events, I'm thinking we probably should."   
"There's nothing to talk about." Boyd forces himself to eat one of the french toast sticks from his tray. He's not as hungry as he'd been before jazz's announcement.   
"Yes, there is. Boyd. You're lucky that you're generally pretty stoic on a regular basis because those of us who  _ know _ you could see that you were freaking out back there. If Isaac had been paying attention, he would have seen it, too. So," She flips her golden curls over her shoulder. "We're going to talk about how you're going to be spending a night with him.  _ Alone. _ "

 

"I'll deal," Boyd says calmly, face blank. She doesn't need to know that his heart is still beating way too fast. "Just like I deal when he flirts with Scott or Allison or Theo. Just like I do every time he hugs me after I accidentally say something that makes him laugh. It's just one night. In a conveniently large bed. He'll stay on his side, I'll stay on mine and he'll never have to know anything."

  
Erica sighs, shoulders slumping. "Dude. Aren't you tired of dealing, though? Don't you want to know if he feels anything more than friendship for you?"

  
"I already know that's all he feels. He'll flirt with everyone except me. That includes  _ you _ . So, clearly, he wants nothing from me than what I already give. I'm not going to put pressure on him to try to return what I feel. He's my friend. That's good enough." He stands up to dump his tray, not bothering to try to pretend to eat anymore. "We've talked about it, now. So let's go back to ignoring it."

  
"Boyd." When he stops to look at her, Erica stands up as well. "You know I just want you to be happy, right?"

 

Boyd gives her a tight smile. "I know. It's why I tolerate you."

  
"Psh. You love me."

 

"Yeah, yeah."

  
He really does appreciate Erica. Even if she does poke into his business. He knows it isn't her intention to pour salt into an open wound. As she'd pointed out, they've never spoken of Isaac and Boyd's feelings for him until today. She has no idea how much Isaac not returning those feelings eats at him.

  
Most days he's pretty good at ignoring those feelings himself. Some days he's even content to be just friends forever. He's sure that once high school is over and they go their separate ways, the prolonged absence will help him begin to move on.  He's looking forward to the day he can leave his dreams about Isaac behind almost as much as he dreads it.

 

He really does appreciate Erica. Even if she does poke into his business. He knows it isn't her intention to pour salt into an open wound. As she'd pointed out, they've never spoken of Isaac and Boyd's feelings for him until today. She has no idea how much Isaac not returning those feelings eats at him.

  
Most days he's pretty good at ignoring those feelings himself. Some days he's even content to be just friends forever. He's sure that once high school is over and they go their separate ways, the prolonged absence will help him begin to move on.  He's looking forward to the day he can leave his dreams about Isaac behind almost as much as he dreads it.

 

Boyd spends the rest of the day basically avoiding as much human interaction as possible. Especially form Erica and Isaac. He really doesn't want to discuss anything about the night with either of them.

 

Both of them can tell what he's doing. Isaac looks sad but understanding, misinterpreting the reason for Boyd's avoidance. Probably thinking Boyd is brooding over the competition and wanting to do so in silence. Erica knows better and leaves him to it until the end of lunch when she corners him after he dumps his tray.

 

She gets in his face and whisper-shouts, "First of all, you can't just avoid me forever, Vernon Boyd. I'm your friend and you're not getting rid of me just because you don't like what I say. Second of all, I'm not letting this go. I heard what you said and I heard your reasoning. I've been thinking about it, and you're right.  Isaac flirts with everyone but you." Boyd flinches and Erica gently grabs both sides of his head. "Did it ever occur to you that he doesn't flirt with you because you're the only one who matters? All of his flirting is casual, none of it matters to him because he's not actually interested in them, except for maybe a quick hook up. I know for a fact that you're important to him. So maybe, just maybe, you're the most important person, and he doesn't want to mess it up by admitting feelings to his best friend who doesn't seem to feel the same way.    
You gotta admit you don't emote like the rest of us, so chances are, he has no idea how you feel because you spend all your energy 'dealing with' those feelings instead of letting him know how you feel. Think about it." She pats his cheek and saunters off.

 

Boyd blinks after her. He considers her words then dismisses them. There's just no way. Because if what she's saying is true, then it's his own fault he's still pining after the other boy. Boyd isn't ready to accept that and probably never will be.

 

After the final bell rings, he stops by the bulletin board to see if Jazz changed her mind. She didn't. In less than seven hours, he's going to have to share a room and a bed with the boy of his dreams, all while pretending it's just another day. He sighs and walks home.

  
*

 

The first thing he does is make himself some food. He's still not particularly hungry, but if he doesn't eat now, he won't get to until the next morning at the hotel. When he's finished eating, he heads to his room. He dumps out his book bag and grabs sleep pants and a clean pair of underwear, stuffing them in the bottom of the bag. He goes to his closet to find his team sweats. While he's not fond of the maroon ensemble, at least they're not the drab olive green of PT sweats. Plus, hoodie equals pocket, which is a definite mark in their favor. He shoves the matching hoodie and sweatpants in his bag, along with a clean pair of regular socks, two pairs of dress socks, and two plain white t-shirts. He packs his small toiletry bag and zips us backpack closed. His drill uniforms are in his team locker, so he doesn't need anything else.

 

After he's done packing, he shoots his mom a text, reminding her that he'll be gone before she gets home and that he left leftovers for her in the fridge.  He checks the clock, still forty minutes until he needs to be back at the school. To stop himself from thinking too much and spiraling about Isaac, he sets an alarm for thirty-five minutes and picks up the latest book he's reading. He immediately gets lost in the plot and groans when his alarm goes off. There's no way it's already been that long, but the clock doesn't lie. At least his plan to stay distracted worked. He replaces the bookmark and shoves it in his bag with his clothes. Maybe he'll be able to read some more on the bus before it gets too dark.

 

The walk back to the JROTC building takes no time at all. He enters the main room and sees Jazz already sitting at the front table. It looks like she's doing homework and Boyd wonders if she even went home. He wanders back to the locker room and sees Shy digging in hers. He pulls out his uniform bag and lays it flat on the bench to double check that everything he needs is there. Jacket, trousers, belt, cover, shoes, shirtstays, and two pairs of white gloves.

 

He zips his bag and follows Shy back out to the main room. He sits at his table and pulls his book out of his bag to entertain himself as cadets trickle in to collect their own uniforms. After about ten minutes, Erica plops down beside him.

 

"I brought snacks. I learned from last year. Also, please tell me we're using a new bus with a radio." She throws a fruit roll-up at him.

 

"How the hell would I know? Did you see a bus when you got in?" He marks his place in the book, knowing he's going to be too occupied to read anymore.

 

"No, that's why I asked. Duh." She sticks her tongue out at him. "Did you think about what I said at lunch?"

 

"Yes."

 

"Okay? And?"

 

"And," He decides it's in his best interest to not be totally honest with her. "I'm still thinking about it. I'm not sure you're right, but I'm still considering it."

 

"Considering what?" Isaac pops up behind them with a sweet smile on his face, making Boyd's heart thump hard in his chest.

 

"Oh, nothing. Just the fact that-"

  
"Erica is debating on making a move on Lydia tonight. I'm not sure it's the best idea, considering they're sharing a room with other people." Boyd interrupts whatever embarrassing thing Erica was about to say.

 

She shoots him a glare, then smirks. "Unlike you two. You'll have a room all to yourselves to do  _ whatever _ you want."

 

"Sounds about right." Isaac grins and heads toward the locker room.

 

"Hear that, Boyd? He says it sounds about right." Erica wiggles her eyebrows at him.

 

Boyd is saved from answering by First Sergeant Shultz walking in and announcing, "Bus is out front. Everyone who is ready to go, start loading up. We're leaving in fifteen."

 

Boyd leaves his backpack behind but grabs his uniform bag. And hangs it on the portable clothes rack Lydia is pushing toward the door. He heads to the front of the room to grab a couple of rifle cases the last class had loaded with the rifles and follows her out the door.

  
He sets the cases down and hops through the open back door of the bus. He grabs one end of the clothes rack and Scott lifts the other end. Together they lift it into the aisle of the bus. Scott boosts Lydia up into the back of the bus and they start a train, clothing bags going to Lydia, who puts them on the rack, and rifle cases to Boyd who puts them in and under the seats. When they're finished, he goes out the front of the bus to grab his backpack then returns to the bus and sits down.

 

One by one, cadets climb onto the bus. He scoots over as he sees Erica come up the aisle. She looks him right in the eye and walks past his seat and sits in the seat behind him. He watches her sit and she pointedly ignores his  _ what the fuck? _ look. He's about to verbally question her when his seat dips next to him. He turns and blinks owlishly at a grinning Isaac. He jerks his head back to Erica, who's smirking at him.  _ This bitch. _

 

"So, roomie," Isaac starts, catching Boyd's attention. "Do you prefer the left or right side of the bed?"

  
Boyd just blinks at him, still reeling from his supposed best friends betrayal.   
"Oh, don't tell me you're one of those people who starfish in the middle of the bed because I know it's a king size and all, but you're a big guy."

 

Boyd clears his throat. "I don't starfish. I sleep on my side. Usually in the middle of my own bed but I can make room, no problem." He's very glad for his dark skin so nobody can see how much blood has traveled to his face.

 

"Thank you very much." Isaac beams at him, dimples flashing and Boyd feels like he's going to die. He's not sure when his inner emotions became so dramatic, but there it is. Maybe he shouldn't have suppressed all thoughts about the impending bed sharing.

 

He snaps out of his thoughts and realizes Isaac is speaking again. "...though, I should warn you, I tend to burrito in my blankets when I sleep which might result in me becoming a blanket hog. Feel free to unwrap me if you get cold." Isaac winks.

 

He fucking winks.  _ Is he... flirting with me? _ Boyd's heartbeat speeds up and he looks back at Erica for help. She's too busy flirting with Lydia, who'd joined her at some point, to pay attention to his panic.  _ Note to self: burn friendship bracelet when you get home. _

 

Boyd looks back at Isaac. "I'll keep that in mind." 

  
Before anything else can be said, Jazz calls for the count-off an everyone is momentarily distracted by the exercise intended to make sure everyone is accounted for. Once the last person hollers their number, Schultz starts the bus and they're on their way. Isaac immediately asks if he's totally opposed to accidental cuddling  _ "just in case I roll too close in the middle of the night" _ and Boyd settles back for what is bound to be the longest four hour trip of his life.

 

*

 

Boyd almost cries in relief when the bus pulls into the hotel's parking lot. After an hour, Erica had finally taken pity on him and distracted Isaac with the latest trailer for the upcoming Marvel movie, which had lead to a conversation about theories and headcanons for the MCU. Eventually, Lydia got bored with the conversation and brought Erica's attention back to herself, but thankfully, Isaac didn't bring up any more potential sleeping issues. Instead, he'd asked Boyd's opinion about his mom's recovery after her wrist surgery. Boyd was happy he'd remembered, but that was always something he'd loved about Isaac. At some point, they'd gone quiet, and Isaac dozed off, head on Boyd's shoulder, causing his heartbeat to skyrocket and he hasn't relaxed since.

 

He gently taps Isaac twice on the cheek and the other boys' eyelashes flutter before those gorgeous baby blues open and meet his own. Isaac lifts his head and smiles sleepily, brushing a hand over Boyd's shoulder. "Sorry." He says in a low voice.   
"It's, uh, no problem." Boyd tries to smile back. It must work because Isaac's eyes brighten before he directs his attention to Beamon at the front of the bus.

 

"Alright, everybody. First things first, we're going to exit the bus in an orderly fashion. We're going to collect our uniforms. Boys, you're in charge of rifle cases, one case per pair. We're going to collect our room keys and disperse to our respective rooms. Lights out at 2230. Wake up calls are at 0700. Everyone is expected at the breakfast lounge at 0730. We're leaving 0815. Does everyone understand?"

  
"YES, SIR!"

  
"Good. Get off my bus."

  
Boyd sucks in a breath.  _ This is it. _

 

Isaac collects their uniform bags and Boyd grabs a rifle case.  Beamon gets the keys from the lady behind the front desk and Jazz consults her list to get a key to one person in each room. Boyd collects his key and Isaac follows him up the stairs. Their room is at the very end of the hall. Boyd unlocks the door and holds it open for Isaac, then closes it and follows the other boy past the bathroom and small closet and into the main room. 

  
And there it is. The bane of Boyd's existence for the last fifteen or so hours. One king-sized bed. Ugly pastel patterned comforter, four pillows, headboard attached to the wall.  Each side of the bed has a small table beside it with lamps also bolted to the wall. The left side table has a phone and the right side has an alarm clock.

  
The rest of the room consists of a small table with two chairs, a credenza with an ancient looking box tv and a four cup coffee pot with complimentary coffee sitting on it, and a small chest of drawers with a mini fridge on top.

  
"Cozy," Isaac mutters and backtracks past Boyd to the closet. As he hangs up the uniforms, Boyd sets the rifle case down on the table. 

  
He pulls his backpack off his shoulders and pulls out his night clothes and turns to Isaac. "Uh, if you don't mind, I like to take a shower at night."

  
"That's perfect, actually. I prefer to shower in the morning." Isaac grins.

  
"Great," He reaches into his backpack and pulls out his toiletry bag. "I'll just.. go ahead then." He walks past a fondly smiling Isaac and enters the bathroom, pulling the door closed behind him. He stares at himself in the mirror.  _ Why are you so fucking awkward? _ Boyd just sighs and starts the water in the tub.

 

When he’s finished and leaves the bathroom, he turns the corner to see Isaac already laying in bed, eyes closed, breathing steady. Must still be tired from the bus ride. This is actually easier. He’s not going to have to look Isaac in the eyes while he climbs into the other side. He gingerly lifts the comforter and slides under it as gently as possible to not disturb the other boy. He turns onto his side, back facing Isaac, and as close as he can get to the edge of the bed without falling off.

 

“You can scoot closer, V. I don’t mind.” A sleepy mumble sounds from behind him.

 

Boyd tenses a little but shifts a few inches back. He swears he can feel the heat coming from Isaac’s body reaching his back. 

 

“G’night, V.” Boyd hears Isaac wiggle a little before settling down again.

 

“Night, Isaac.” He murmurs into the dark.

 

Minutes later, the soft sounds of Isaac’s breathing lull Boyd to sleep.

 

*

 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” 

 

Boyd wakes up to something hitting his shoulder and Isaac’s terrified whimpers. He turns around to see Isaac on his side facing away from Boyd, curled up in a ball, arms wrapped around his head. Boyd immediately feels equal parts concerned and pissed off. If he could bring Isaac’s dad back to kill him himself, he would. No one should have nightmares like this, especially not someone as wonderful as Isaac. 

 

He’s at a loss of what to do. Obviously, he should wake Isaac, but what is the best way to do it? He doesn’t think a tap or shove to his shoulder would do it. And looming over him and saying his name loud enough to wake him seems counterproductive. Finally, Boyd just goes with his gut. He wraps his big body around the quivering boys back, gently running his fingers through the hair he can reach, and telling him over and over that it’s okay, he’s safe, he’s not alone.

 

Slowly, so slowly, Isaac’s breathing slows. As does his heartbeat that Boyd can feel under his arm. His body loses tension and lets go of his head, relaxing fully against Boyd’s chest. One of his hands lightly grips the forearm around his chest. “Thank you, V.”

 

“You don’t have to thank me. Not for this.” Boyd gently squeezes Isaac in a full body hug and then shifts to start pulling away.

 

Isaac immediately clings to his arms to hold as much of him in place as he can. “Please stay.”

 

Boyd’s heart slams in his chest at the words, but he settles back behind the smaller boy.  _ He just needs comfort after the nightmare. Don’t make a big deal out of it.  _

 

Isaac sighs happily at his acquiescence and shifts closer to Boyd.  _ Okay, so that wiggling needs to stop ASAP. _ If Boyd had thought he’d been surprised at Isaac asking him to stay, he’s definitely not prepared for Isaac to grab his hand and pull it up to his face to study it in the moonlight peeking through the crack in the curtains. Isaac runs his fingers over Boyd’s, pushing them up so he can rub his thumb across his palm before turning his hand and laying his own hand over it. Isaac’s hand is considerably smaller and almost looks delicate.

 

“You’re hands are so big. But they’re not scary at all.” Isaac lowers his hand to wrap it around Boyd’s wrist. “And your skin is so dark compared to mine. So pretty. All of you is pretty.”

 

Boyd is finding it hard to breathe all of a sudden. How the hell can Isaac can say Boyd is pretty when he’s the prettiest boy Boyd’s ever laid eyes on? And what the hell is going on, anyway? He decides it would be prudent to ask. “What are you doing?” Has his voice ever been that unsteady before?

 

Isaac doesn’t answer. Instead, he says, “You know, if I had known it would take a nightmare for you to cuddle me, I would’ve invited you to stay the night ages ago.”

 

“What?” Boyd strangles out.

 

“Oh, yeah. Been wanting you to wrap these huge arms around me forever. So strong. I always figured I’d never feel anything but safe in them.” He pushes his back against Boyd’s chest. “I was right.”

 

A million thoughts run through Boyd’s mind, but the one that comes out is: “Of course you’re safe with me. All I’ve ever wanted was for you to be safe.”

 

Isaac turns in Boyd’s arms to beam up at him. “That’s great to hear, V. But there’s really nothing else you’ve wanted.”

 

“Uh, well, actually, I’ve pretty much got everything I’ve ever wanted right here.” He squeezes his arms around the other boy to make his point.

 

“Nothing else?” Isaac asks, gaze dipping to Boyd’s mouth for a brief second before darting back up to meet Boyd’s.

 

This is it. This is the moment Boyd thought he’d never get to have. He’d be a complete fool to waste it. “I’ve also wanted to kiss you, Isaac Lahey. Can I?”

 

“I honestly thought you’d never ask.” Isaac leans up and presses his mouth to Boyd’s.

 

Boyd feels like he’s burning. Like his entire world was a wasteland and is suddenly bursting with life. He feels like a prisoner shedding his shackles as he lifts his hands to bury them into Isaac’s short curls, pressing closer to taste what he’d always thought forbidden. Isaac pushes Boyd onto his back and drapes himself over his chest as they continue to explore each other’s mouths. 

 

When they finally come up for air, Boyd stares up at the other boy in wonder. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

 

“Honestly, I always thought you weren’t interested in me. Or anyone for that matter. So I gave you space and kept my feelings to myself.” Isaac shakes his head at himself. “Then Erica cornered me before we got on the bus and told me that if I liked you, then I had to let you know. I tried telling her you weren’t interested, but she flung her hands in the air and screeched something about how we’re both hopeless and we deserve each other.” He chuckles. “I guess we both held back for the same basic reason, then?”

 

“Looks like it.” Boyd agrees. “I’m so glad you listened to her because I obviously didn’t. I’m going to have to buy her something shiny.”

 

Isaac laughs and leans up to kiss him again. “It’s so awesome that I can do that now. I’ll pitch in for the shiny.”

 

“Mmm.” Boyd agrees. “And as much as I’m loving kissing you.” He makes his point by kissing Isaac again. “And I definitely do.” Kiss. “We have to be up in a few hours.” Kiss.

 

“Dumb, but correct. Fine. One more, then we go back to sleep.” Isaac leans back up and kisses Boyd thoroughly, then settles down against Boyd’s chest. “Goodnight, V.”

 

“Goodnight, Isaac. Sweet dreams this time, yeah.”

 

“At least you’re here in case they’re not.”

 

Boyd runs his hand up and down Isaac’s back until they fall back to sleep.

 

*

 

Boyd startles awake at the shrill sound of a phone ringing. He’s on his side with Isaac once again tucked against his chest. He smiles down at the other boy who covers his ears at the offensive noise. He reaches over and answers the phone. An automated voice informs him that this is a complimentary wake-up call. He hangs up without saying anything.

 

Boyd takes a minute to revel in the feeling of Isaac in his arms. He wraps his arms completely around the other boy and snuggles in. Then, he pulls back and runs a finger down Isaac’s cheek. “Wakey, wakey sleeping beauty. We’ve got trophies to win today.” Poking at Isaac’s competitive side.

 

“You’re damn right we do.” Isaac turns around and faces Boyd. “Hi.” He smiles sweetly.

 

“Hey.” Boyd leans in and kisses him. “That’s never going to get old, I think.”

 

“You’re probably right.” Isaac agrees, kissing him back before rolling out of bed.

 

Isaac showers and they both get dressed in their team sweats. They pack their bags and Boyd grabs their room key before they leave for breakfast. In the hall, they run into Jazz and Shy knocking on doors, telling the stragglers to get a move on. Jazz spots them coming up the hall. “Good. Thanks for not making me come get y-” her eyes land on their clasped hands. “What the hell? How long has that been a thing? Why didn’t I know before I assigned rooms!?” 

 

“It’s new. As in last night, new.” Isaac answers, ducking his head, blushing. It’s the cutest damn thing Boyd’s ever seen.

 

Shy wanders over to see what her sister is freaking out about. When she spots their hands and Isaac’s words sink in, she gasps. “It worked!” She bounces on her toes and claps a few times.

 

Jazz whips her head toward his sister.  _ “What  _ worked?”

 

“Oh, uh, you know how you delegated writing the names of the boys on the slips and putting in your hat?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Well, I might have only written Isaac and Boyd on every slip?”

 

“What?” Jazz asks at the same time Boyd and Isaac ask, “Why?”

 

“You guys were pining so hard! I just knew if you had to be alone with each other you’d end up figuring it out! I saw an opportunity and I took it.” She glances pointedly at their hands. “You’re welcome.”

 

“Shyanne!” Jazz shakes her head at her sister. “If I get reprimanded for this I’m throwing all of you under the bus with me. So I’d suggest keeping all of  _ that-”  _ She points at their hands. “On the DL. I cannot believe any of you. Just- just save the public announcement for Monday, huh?”

 

The boys agree and let go of each other’s hands, nodding sheepishly at Jazz. Jazz nod back and turns to walk away. She pauses to look at them. “The smile looks good on you, Boyd. Congratulations and all that. Monday.” She walks off.

 

Erica, who’d walked out of her room halfway through Shy’s confession, smirks at them. “Told you soo!” She sings before heading downstairs.

 

Isaac looks up at Boyd. “She’s never going to let us live this down.”

 

Boyd leans down to give one last quick kiss. “Worth it.”

  
  
  
  
  



End file.
